


A Petty Consequence

by Pugcifer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry John Watson, Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Established Relationship, M/M, Making Up, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25885522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pugcifer/pseuds/Pugcifer
Summary: John Watson and James Moriarty were together. They ruled the criminal underground and had a pretty awesome life full of explosions and romantic gestures. Until Moriarty messes up and sends John running back to war. Where he gets shot and sent back to London. Alone. Or at least alone until John meets the world's only consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes.Can Moriarty fix what he did and win John back? Will Sherlock figure out John's history as the consort of London's king criminal and push John to run again?
Relationships: James Moriarty/John Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	1. A Start

“I’m leaving.” John looks back at the figure on the couch. The only light is from the TV, playing some mindless crap that Jim would never watch in a million years, lighting up the side of Jim's face. Jim is slouched low on the couch, indifference a cold mask in the flickering light of the show.  John swallows the anger that sparks from Jim's silence. He takes a deep breath, deep enough to feel the ache in his chest and the unshed tears in his eyes, and looks away from his husband. When his voice returns, John chokes out, “I’m serious, Jim. I won’t be back this time. We’re done.”

“Sure we are, darling. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out,” Jim raises his glass in a mock salute and takes a swig of something dark. John knows drinking is rare in Jim's life, only done in dire and emotional circumstances, a small angry part of John is pleased to know he had such an impact on the criminal mastermind.

_ Whatever _ , John thinks as he exits the house,  _ let him numb his mind and forget our life.  _ John doesn’t know it, but the slam of the door is all it takes for tears to start streaming down Jim’s face. John has a new life to get started with, even if he is technically going backwards to start it, and Jim is not a part of that life.


	2. Back to London

The flight back to London is miserable. A combination of common travel pains and the new limp John has acquired. Not to mention a steady fear of what - or better yet who - lies in wait for John when he gets home... Not that he is really going home though. Home is off limits now. Damn, he’d forgotten that he needs to find a new place to live.

The landing is bumpy and it feels like forever before the passengers are allowed to shuffle off the plane. Every shrill complaint from a fellow passenger and bump to his body irritates John's leg and the headache he has been nursing since leaving the military base. Wishing he had thought to grab painkillers, John hikes the army duffel up onto his shoulder and heads off to baggage claim. He finds an empty spot to lean against the wall and wait for his luggage. John leans his head back and closes his eyes, the airports never got luggage out fast anyways so he might as well rest his eyes.

Not 5 minutes go by before John feels a person's gaze on him. Said person is far too close for his liking. He feels his stomach twist in anticipation as he cracks his eyes open. His fears are confirmed by a person who is holding a sign. Upon which is a fancy and cursive version of his last name. The anxiety twisting his stomach transforms into a burning rage. 

“Moran.” John turns his head to the slowly moving carousel. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

His bag appears next and John has never wanted to thank higher powers more. He grabs it off the carousel and doesn’t look at Sebastian Moran as he marches towards the sign for taxis. The right hand to his (soon to be) ex-husband is on his heels the entire way, despite not answering the question. 

“John -” Sebastian Moran is cut off by a glare that would make a serial killer pause, “Fine. Mr. Watson, your delightful presence has been demanded by the boss and I am here to make sure you get there. Now if you’ll hand me your bag, the car is parked that way.” He finishes his sarcastic explanation with a finger pointing in the opposite way.

“You and Ji - your boss should know that I am not about to hop into a car with you or go grace his highness with a visit. I am taking a taxi and you are leaving me the fuck alone.” John’s voice has risen quite a bit by the end and the pair receive a few concerned looks. John sighs and drops his voice to an angry whisper, “Go back to your boss and tell him to leave me alone until I serve him with divorce papers. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” John heads off towards the exit of the airport while trying to breathe through the rage at this interaction.  _ The audacity of that bitch to send his fucking sniper to chauffeur me home, as if I was away on a business trip rather than having left his selfish ass.  _

The rage subsides as he thinks more about the very selfish but cute ass that he left. John shakes himself out of the thoughts with the mantra he had been repeating since he got shot. He will go to temporary military housing, find a new place to live and then move on to a normal and sane life. John has been repeating this plan on a loop since boarding the plane and starting the journey home from Afghanistan. The only thing to drive the mantra from his mind is images of Jim's smile floating through his head, which he promptly pushes away each time it happens.

When Moran is still following him after leaving the airport, John glances back to see Moran had taken his phone out and is texting rapidly. No guesses needed to know who is on the other end of that conversation. John sighs, exhausted from the journey and anger filling him, he needs to get rid of the sniper before his guard drops. 

“Look, I’ll text the git and make him drop it. Now get out of here!” Moran didn’t move at John’s words. John’s jaw tightens, the anger reappears with a vengeance. Moran seems to get the gist and takes a new approach.

“John, please,” Moran looked around quickly and lowered his voice, “Moriarty's mood swings have been worse since you left. If I leave now, without you, he will kill me.” A wide eyed and fearful look fills Moran's face, obviously fake if one knew the sniper. John narrowed his eyes in disbelief, _why do people always think I will care about Jim killing them. They were the idiots for getting involved with such a crazy asshole._ John looked at the ceiling for a second, hoping the brown staining around the tiles would give him the strength to finish this conversation without punching anyone. _I guess I am an idiot for marrying such an asshole too._

Instead of replying to Moran’s words, John slips his hand into his jacket pocket to fish out his phone. It took a moment, his fingers stalling while opening the new phone. A gift from Harry when she found out about their separation, complete with an inscription on the back:

_ Better luck with the next one! _

_ Plenty of sane fish in the sea _

_ -Harry _

He hates the inscription, hates using the phone in general but military pay does not allow many perks. The only unchanging parts of John’s life through this whole mess are that Harry hates Jim and John doesn’t have much money to spare. He glances at Moran, who is standing anxiously by his side, and texts the deliberately unlabeled number on his phone.

**_Leave Moran Alone. I am taking a cab. – JW_ **

John pockets his phone and waits. Seeing Moran visibly relax, John knows that the message was received. He shoulders his bag again and sets off for the taxis, this time without being followed. Only John is aware of his disappointment when the phone remains silent in his pocket, Jim not even bothering to text back. He tries to shake off the feeling, after all he doesn’t deserve to be disappointed because he didn’t get a witty text back. John left Jim, not the other way around. 

John lists his mantra to move on again and leaves the airport. If there are tears in his eyes once he’s in the cab, well then that’s for him to know and Jim to speculate as he watches from the airport cameras.


	3. An Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike Stamford finds John in a park.

John is depressed. That much the mandated therapist got correct. Well that and the psychosomatic limp, but neither is a difficult diagnosis. Speaking of, John’s leg starts to act up and he realizes he needs to sit down before it gives out and leaves him on his ass in the middle of the street. He finds one a few moments later and nearly falls on it. _Fucking hell, Jim told me to get shot while I was gone and look what happened,_ John thinks bitterly. He had left Jim to avoid injury, do some good in the world once again. Instead, he ended up right back where he started just with a bum leg and insane ex. He is nearly too deep in his misery to hear a loud voice calling out his name.

“John? John Watson!” A dark haired and slightly balding man is standing next to the bench John is sitting at, a large smile on his face. “Stamford, Mike Stamford. We were at Bart’s together.”

“Ah, yes, sorry. Yes, Mike.” John moves to stand up but Mike throws his hand out instead to avoid inconveniencing the man. “Hello, it’s good to see you again.”

“You as well, mate. And don’t worry about it, I know. I got fat.” Mike sits down and says this all with a laugh. John hurries to deny it, which Mike waves away, a smile still on his face. “How about you? I heard you were abroad somewhere, getting shot at. What happened?”

“Er, I got shot.” John looks back over the park, his voice tight.

“Oh,” The smile drops off his face and Mike looks at the park too, not sure what to say after that. They sit for a minute, watching people walk past, before Mike perks up a bit and says, “How about some coffee? I can run over and grab some, what’s your poison?”

“Oh thanks, Mike. Just a plain coffee please.” John hands him some cash and leans back into the bench as Mike stands to go get the drinks from a nearby stand. John takes a deep breath to steel his nerves. He hasn’t seen his old friend in forever and can’t believe they ran into each other on one of his morning walks. John tries to cheer himself up, this chance meeting might be the one to pull him out of his dark mood.

Once Mike is back to the bench, each sipping their respective drinks, they start catching up on everything that has gone on since their university days.

“You still at Bart’s, then?” John raises his eyebrows and glances at the man.

“Teaching there now. So many bright young things there, like we used to be.” He pauses, “God, I hate them!” Mike bursts out laughing, and it startles a laugh out of John, the first time he’s so much as chuckled since being shot. He doesn’t notice but the twinge in his leg loses its bite a tad. “Well, what about you? Heard you got married to that Moriarty fellow, you two got a place in London?”

“Oh um, well I can’t afford London on an Army pension,” John forces out an awkward laugh. He glances down, his stomach clenching uncomfortably.

“Ah, and you couldn’t bear to be anywhere else. That's the John Watson I remember. But what about, what was his first name, Jim? Does he make enough to keep you here in London?”

“I'm not the John Watson you remember and... Well, things with Jim didn’t exactly work out.” John purposefully doesn’t look at Mike when he feels the man turn to look at him. He doesn’t want to face the pity on the man’s face.

“I’m sorry, John. Couldn’t Harry help at all?” Mike’s voice is full of pity and John feels shame curl like a snake in his stomach.

“Hah, like that’s ever gonna happen!” John laughs bitterly at the thought of his sister. The phone was the only gift she’s bothered to send in the past decade and that was more to make a statement about her hatred of Jim than anything else. Mike shrugs in response.

“I don’t know, you could get a flat share or something?” Mike’s voice is hesitant, and John appreciates the thought but, _I could barely share a flat with my own husband, who else would put up with me?_

“Come on, who would want _me_ for a flat mate?” John laughs at himself but stops when he notices the thoughtful look on Mike’s face. He narrows his eyes in suspicion. “What?”

“Well, you’re the second person to say that to me today.” Mike chuckles.

“Who was the first?” John asks, glancing at his old friend.

“How about you join me on a walk back to Bart’s? I can introduce you and maybe help you forget about your disappearing dick of a husband.” Mike chuckles a little, enjoying his secret a bit too much in John’s opinion. John felt a little bad about letting Mike assume Jim left John, the guilt bringing back the unease in his stomach that had relaxed during their conversation. The vibration of his phone shocks him out of his guilty thoughts, the only one who texts him these days is Harry. And she only contacts him while drunk…

**_Could at least correct him on who left whom – JM_ **

John looks up and notices the camera across the way. Leave it to Jim to keep an eye on him despite being separated. John makes eye contact with the camera while turning off the phone and shoving it in his pocket. He ignores the following vibration to be petty. After all, that was what they were best at in their relationship.

“Well, if you’re sure that I won’t be a bother, then I’d love to see Bart’s and remember the old days.” John and Mike both stand up, throwing the empty coffee cups in the trash bin next to the bench. “Just promise it isn’t too far of a walk,” John gestures at his cane, “I don’t want to slow you down any.”

“It’s right across the corner, you won’t be a bother at all.” Mike pats John on the back and they set off towards the university. _At least this will fill up the day a little,_ John subconsciously clenches his fist to control the tremor from standing up. He grits his teeth a little when he notices, takes a deep breath, and follows Mike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three is up! Dialogue is quite difficult for me haha, but I appreciated the Transcript of A Study in Pink by Ariane DeVere.https://arianedevere.livejournal.com/43794.html . Was a godsend. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is multiple parts and I've got several in the works. I know this chapter is suuuuuper short but the second will be out in no time and I needed to put this out there or else I'd never get myself moving on the rest of them.  
> I really hope you enjoy this story and any suggestions are welcome! Please be kind but enthusiasm to share your thoughts is always appreciated!! 
> 
> Thanks for reading my fic!


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